JULY 24TH—Yesterday we received a letter from Col. Bartow, written just before the battle (in which he fell, his letter being received after the announcement of his death), urging the appointment of his gallant young friend Lamar to a lieutenancy. I noted these facts on the back of his letter, with the Secretary’s approbation, and also that the request had been granted, and placed the letter, perhaps the last he ever wrote, in the archives for preservation.
CAMP CHASE, July 24, 1861.
DEAR UNCLE:—I am surrounded by the bustle and confusion attendant upon a hurried leaving of camp. We go tomorrow at 5 A. M. to Zanesville by railroad, thence down the Muskingum on steamboats to Marietta, and on the Ohio to Ripley Landing, a short distance from Point Pleasant in Virginia. We are to be a part of General Rosecrans’ force against Wise.
Last night I had a good chat with Frémont. He is a hero. All his words and acts inspire enthusiasm and confidence. He and the governor reviewed our regiment today. Lucy, Laura, and many friends were present. It was a stirring scene. I wish you could have been here. You would subscribe heartily to General Fremont. Good-bye. My saddest feeling—my almost only sad feeling—is leaving you in such bad health.
Affectionately,
R. B. HAYES.
P.S.—Always send me full sheets of paper—the blank sheet is so useful. The use and scarcity of paper is appalling.
S. BIRCHARD.
July 24th.—Here Mr. Chesnut opened my door and walked in. Out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh. I had to ask no questions. He gave me an account of the battle as he saw it (walking up and down my room, occasionally seating himself on a window sill, but too restless to remain still many moments); and told what regiments he was sent to bring up. He took the orders to Colonel Jackson, whose regiment stood so stock still under fire that they were called a “stone wall.” Also, they call Beauregard, Eugene, and Johnston, Marlboro. Mr. Chesnut rode with Lay’s cavalry after the retreating enemy in the pursuit, they following them until midnight. Then there came such a fall of rain—rain such as is only known in semitropical lands.
In the drawing-room, Colonel Chesnut was the “belle of the ball;” they crowded him so for news. He was the first arrival that they could get at from the field of battle. But the women had to give way to the dignitaries of the land, who were as filled with curiosity as themselves—Mr. Barnwell, Mr. Hunter, Mr. Cobb, Captain Ingraham, etc.
Wilmot de Saussure says Wilson of Massachusetts, a Senator of the United States,¹ came to Manassas, en route to Richmond, with his dancing shoes ready for a festive scene which was to celebrate a triumph. The New York Tribune said: “In a few days we shall have Richmond, Memphis, and New Orleans. They must be taken and at once.” For “a few days” maybe now they will modestly substitute “in a few years.”
They brought me a Yankee soldier’s portfolio from the battle-field. The letters had been franked by Senator Harlan.² One might shed tears over some of the letters. Women, wives and mothers, are the same everywhere. What a comfort the spelling was! We had been willing to admit that their universal free-school education had put them, rank and file, ahead of us literarily, but these letters do not attest that fact. The spelling is comically bad.
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¹ Henry Wilson, son of a farm laborer and self-educated, who rose to much prominence in the Anti-Slavery contests before the war. He was elected United States Senator from Massachusetts in 1855, holding the office until 1873, when he resigned, having been elected Vice-President of the United States on the ticket with Ulysses S. Grant.
² James Harlan, United States Senator from Iowa from 1855 to 1865. In 1865 he was appointed Secretary of the Interior.
—The Richmond (Va.) Whig of today contains the following:—” The Devoted Band.”—The shortest path to peace is that which carries havoc and desolation to our invaders. It is believed that there are five or ten thousand men in the South ready and willing to share the fate of Curtius and devote themselves to the salvation of their country. It is proposed that all who are willing to make this sacrifice, shall arm themselves with a sword, two five shooters, and a carbine each, and meet on horseback at some place to be designated, convenient for the great work in hand. Fire and sword must be carried to the houses of those who are visiting those blessings upon their neighbors. Philadelphia, and even New York, is not beyond the reach of a long and brave arm. The moral people of these cities cannot be better taught the virtues of invasion than by the blazing light of their own dwellings.
None need apply for admission to “the Devoted Band ” but those who are prepared to take their life in their hand, and who would indulge not the least expectation of ever returning. They dedicate their lives to the destruction of their enemies!
A. S. B. D. B., Richmond.
All southern papers are requested to give this notice a few insertions.
—The Seventh Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers, commanded by Colonel E. B. Harvey, arrived at Washington, D. C. The Regiment numbers 1,046 young and intelligent members.—Philadelphia Press, July 25.
—An expedition of 300 men under Lieut. Crosby, U. S. A., left Fortress Monroe to reconnoitre in Back River, Va., where it burned nine sloops and schooners, and made prize one schooner laden with bacon and corn.—N. Y. Times, July 27.
—This day the loyal citizens of Baltimore, Md., presented an American flag to the Massachusetts Eighth Regiment. The flag, which is of the richest banner silk, was presented in an eloquent and apropriate speech by Perley Lovejoy, Esq., which was responded to by Colonel Hinks, who alluded to the many kind friends the regiment had made in the city of Baltimore.—Baltimore American, July 25.
—Heavy offers of men were made to the Government by telegraph from all parts of the North. From Illinois, 17, and from Indiana, 10 regiments were offered. By noon of this day 80,000 men had been accepted.—An order was issued by General Mansfield directing all straggling soldiers to join their respective regiments without delay, and warning that all stragglers found in the streets six hours after the promulgation of the order, would be deemed guilty of disobedience of orders, and would be arrested. —N. Y. Herald, July 25.
—The Third Regiment of Vermont Volunteers, commanded by Colonel W. N. Smith, left St. Johnsbury, Vt., for the seat of war.—N. Y. Commercial, July 25.
—John Bradley, a young man studying for the ministry, son of a wealthy citizen, and Columbus Bradley were arrested this evening, at Alexandria, Va., by the Provost Marshal, as spies taking information to Manassas.—Louisville Journal, July 26.
—First Lieutenant Luigi Vizia, an Italian officer of the engineer department who has been many years in the military service, and who served with credit in the glorious campaign of Italian liberation of Italy, arrived at New York, to offer his services to the American Government. On his way to America he fell in with an agent of the rebel Government who attempted to persuade him to take service under that Government, and offered to pay his passage.— N. Y. Evening Post, July 26.
—The ladies of Harper’s Ferry, Va., presented a Union flag to the Second Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers to-day, with appropriate ceremonies.—Boston Advertiser, July 31.
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Late addition to Volume 3:
July 24.—The Presbytery of South Alabama met at Selma, Alabama, and severed its ecclesiastical connection with the General Assembly of the United States, and recommended a meeting of a Confederate States Assembly at Memphis, Tennessee, on the 4th of December next. Though not in favor of a preliminary convention, yet the Presbytery, in view that such might be the general wish, appointed delegates to one and recommend Atlanta as that place, and the 15th August as the time for holding it.—N. Y. Evening Post, August 12.
TUESDAY 23
Yesterday was a rainy day and the poor Soldiers were coming in all day wet and cold. We had our house full of members of our Lyons Co. to tea, and made them as comfortable as we could. Today I have taken down to the camp for them two pairs of pantaloons, bot tobacco for the Zuaves and helped them “out” all I could. The City is full of returning soldiers, many in a bad condition, wounded & tired out.
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The three diary manuscript volumes, Washington during the Civil War: The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, 1861-1865, are available online at The Library of Congress.
New York, July 23.
Abby is in the front parlor reading the papers. It is quite useless to say anything about going into the country just now. If we are away from the daily papers, or if they are delayed an hour the girls get into a perfect fever; besides, Abby, you know, has decided never to go to the country again! Because she took a sea bath at Mary’s and felt weak after it, she thinks the country doesn’t agree with her! . . . Aunt Emily is going up to Lenox the last of next week, I believe. I hope so, for Uncle E. needs change; he looks miserably, has a constant cough, and seems quite run down; though when Aunt E. says, “You don’t feel very bright to-day, do you, dear?” he is quite indignant and makes a feeble attempt to sing “the Cock and the Hen,” or to whistle “Dixie.”
JULY 23D. —Jacques is back and as busy as a bee; and, in truth, there is work enough for all.
Excerpts from 13 diary entries and letters that tell more of the news of the major battle about 25 miles west southwest of the U.S. President’s home.
Susan Bradford Eppes – A telegram this afternoon tells of the deaths of Generals Bee and Bartow, both Georgians and both relatives of the Whitehead family. (read more: Through Some Eventful Years.)
Rutherford B. Hayes (diary entry) – We had heard the first rumor of a great defeat, but this gave us the details. A routed army, heavy loss, demoralization, on our side; a great victory, confidence, and enthusiasm, on the other, were the natural results to be expected. Washington in danger, its capture probable, if the enemy had genius. (read more: Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes.)
Mary Boykin Chesnut – Witnessed for the first time a military funeral. As that march came wailing up, they say Mrs. Bartow fainted. The empty saddle and the led war-horse —we saw and heard it all, and now it seems we are never out of the sound of the Dead March in Saul. It comes and it comes, until I feel inclined to close my ears and scream. (read more: A Diary From Dixie.)
Jane Eliza Woolsey – God be praised for that telegram! What a day was yesterday to us; and what a day must it have been to you, my dear Eliza! The terrible news, the conflicting reports, the almost unendurable suspense we were in, the distance from you at such a time! Altogether it was a time to be remembered! (read more: Letters of a Family During the War for the Union.)
Judith White McQuire – Our loss, when compared with that of the enemy, was small, very small; but such men as have fallen! How can I record the death of our young friends, the Conrads of Martinsburg, the only sons of their father, and such sons! (read more: Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War.)
Elisha Franklin Paxton – It is a miracle that I escaped with my life, so many falling dead around me. Buried two of our comrades on the field. God bless my country, my wife, and my little ones! (read more: Letters from camp and field while an officer in the Confederate Army.)
Georgeanna Woolsey – Everything was in our hands and success seemed certain at Bull Run, when from some cause or other a panic was created, our men fell back, the rebels seized the moment for a bold rush and we were entirely routed. Joe says there never was a more complete defeat. All last night the soldiers were arriving in all sorts of conveyances, and on horses cut from ambulances and baggage wagons. An officer from Bull Run told us he saw four soldiers on one horse; and so they came flying back to Washington in all directions. (read more: Letters of a Family During the War for the Union.)
Josiah Marshall Favill – Dodd and I dressed up in our best clothes, and walked to the city, first going to the telegraph office, where we had to wait a long time for our turn, to notify our families at home that we were not killed, wounded, or missing. (read more: Diary of a Young Officer.)
Robert Shaw Howland – Of course the first thought of us civilians is to take care of the wounded. I send enclosed a cheque from Cousin Edward and one from myself. If you find you cannot use these amounts satisfactorily at Washington let us know and we will send materials as they may be wanted. (read more: Letters of a Family During the War for the Union.)
Horatio Nelson Taft – Yesterday was a rainy day and the poor Soldiers were coming in all day wet and cold. We had our house full of members of our Lyons Co. to tea, and made them as comfortable as we could. Today I have taken down to the camp for them two pairs of pantaloons, bot tobacco for the Zuaves and helped them “out” all I could. The City is full of returning soldiers, many in a bad condition, wounded & tired out. (The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft.)
Charles Francis Adams, Jr. – I don’t see any good in my saying anything of the disgraceful and disastrous battle of yesterday. The impression here is very general that Scott’s policy was interfered with by the President in obedience to what he calls the popular will and at the instigation of Sumner, Greeley and others, and the advance was ordered by Scott only after a written protest. The result was a tremendous and unaccountable panic, such as raw troops are necessarily liable to on a field of battle in a strange country, and it all closed in the loss of guns, colors, equipage, and even honor. (read more: A Cycle of Adams Letters.)
Rutherford Birchard Hayes (letter). – The Washington affair is greatly to be regretted; unless speedily repaired, it will lengthen the war materially. The panic of the troops does not strike me as remarkable. You recollect the French army in the neighborhood of the Austrians were seized with a panic, followed by a flight of many miles, caused merely by a runaway mule and cart and “nobody hurt.” (read more: Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes.)
William Howard Russell. – The morning was far advanced when I awoke, and hearing the roll of waggons in the street, I at first imagined the Federals were actually about to abandon Washington itself; but on going to the window, I perceived it arose from an irregular train of commissariat carts, country waggons, ambulances, and sutlers’ vans, in the centre of the street, the paths being crowded as before with soldiers, or rather with men in uniform, many of whom seemed as if they had been rolling in the mud. Poor General Mansfield was running back and forwards between his quarters and the War Department, and in the afternoon some efforts were made to restore order, by appointing rendezvous to which the fragment of regiments should repair, and by organising mounted patrols to clear the streets. (read more: My Diary North and South.)
CAMP CHASE, July 23, 1861.
DEAR UNCLE:—We are in the midst of the excitement produced by the disastrous panic near Washington. We expect it will occasion a very early movement of our regiment. We shall, perhaps, be ordered to the Kanawha line. We certainly shall, unless the recent defeat shall change the plan of the campaign. Colonel DePuy’s regiment is on that line, so that the Fremont companies are likely to be in the same body with us. Their association will be pleasant enough, but there are two or three regiments with them in which I have very little confidence; viz., the Kentucky regiments “falsely so called.” We are yet raw troops, but I think we shall soon grow to it.
The Washington affair is greatly to be regretted; unless speedily repaired, it will lengthen the war materially. The panic of the troops does not strike me as remarkable. You recollect the French army in the neighborhood of the Austrians were seized with a panic, followed by a flight of many miles, caused merely by a runaway mule and cart and “nobody hurt.” The same soldiers won the battle of Solferino a few days ago [later]. But I do think the commanding officers ought not to have led fresh levies against an enemy entrenched on his own ground. Gradual advances, fortifying as he went, strikes me as a more prudent policy. But it is easy to find fault. The lesson will have its uses. It will test the stuff our people are made of. If we are a solid people, as I believe we are, this reverse will stiffen their backs. They will be willing to make greater efforts and sacrifices.
We worked late last night getting our accoutrements ready. In the hurry of preparations to depart, I may not be able to write you before I go. Good-bye.
Sincerely,
R. B. HAYES.
S. BIRCHARD.
July 23rd.—The morning was far advanced when I awoke, and hearing the roll of waggons in the street, I at first imagined the Federals were actually about to abandon Washington itself; but on going to the window, I perceived it arose from an irregular train of commissariat carts, country waggons, ambulances, and sutlers’ vans, in the centre of the street, the paths being crowded as before with soldiers, or rather with men in uniform, many of whom seemed as if they had been rolling in the mud. Poor General Mansfield was running back and forwards between his quarters and the War Department, and in the afternoon some efforts were made to restore order, by appointing rendezvous to which the fragment of regiments should repair, and by organising mounted patrols to clear the streets. In the middle of the day I went out through the streets, and walked down to the long bridge with the intention of crossing, but it was literally blocked up from end to end with a mass of waggons and ambulances full of wounded men, whose cries of pain echoed above the shouts of the drivers, so that I abandoned the attempt to get across, which, indeed, would not have been easy with any comfort, owing to the depth of mud in- the roads. To-day the aspect of Washington is more unseemly and disgraceful, if that were possible, than yesterday afternoon.
As I returned towards my lodgings a scene of greater disorder and violence than usual attracted my attention. A body of Confederate prisoners, marching two and two, were with difficulty saved by their guard from the murderous assaults of a hooting rabble, composed of civilians and men dressed like soldiers, who hurled all kinds of missiles they could lay their hands upon over the heads of the guard at their victims, spattering them with mud and filthy language. It was very gratifying to see the way in which the dastardly mob dispersed at the appearance of a squad of mounted men, who charged them boldly, and escorted the prisoners to General Mansfield. They consisted of a picket or grand guard, which, unaware of the retreat of their regiment from Fairfax, marched into the Federal lines before the battle. Their just indignation was audible enough. One of them, afterwards, told General M’Dowell, who hurried over as soon as he was made aware of the disgraceful outrages to which they had been exposed, “I would have died a hundred deaths before I fell into these wretches’ hands, if I had known this. Set me free for five minutes, and let any two, or four, of them insult me when my hands are loose.”
Soon afterwards a report flew about that a crowd of soldiers were hanging a Secesssionist. A senator rushed to General M’Dowell, and told him that he had seen the man swinging with his own eyes. Off went the General, ventre à terre, and was considerably relieved by finding that they were hanging merely a dummy or effigy of Jeff. Davis, not having succeeded in getting at the original yesterday.
Poor M’Dowell has been swiftly punished for his defeat, or rather for the unhappy termination to his advance. As soon as the disaster was ascertained beyond doubt, the President telegraphed to General M’Clellan to come and take command of his army. It is a commentary full of instruction on the military system of the Americans, that they have not a soldier who has ever handled a brigade in the field fit for service in the North.
The new commander-in-chief is a brevet-major who has been in civil employ on a railway for several years. He went once, with two other West Point officers, commissioned by Mr. Jefferson Davis, then Secretary-of-War, to examine and report on the operations in the Crimea, who were judiciously despatched when the war was over, and I used to see him and his companions poking about the ruins of the deserted trenches and batteries, mounted on horses furnished by the courtesy of British officers, just as they lived in English quarters, when they were snubbed and refused an audience by the Duke of Malakhoff in the French camp. Major M’Clellan forgot the affront, did not even mention it, and showed his Christian spirit by praising the allies, and damning John Bull with very faint applause, seasoned with lofty censure. He was very young, however, at the time, and is so well spoken of that his appointment will be popular; but all that he has done to gain such reputation and to earn the confidence of the government, is to have had some skirmishes with bands of Confederates in Western Virginia, in which the leader, Garnett, was killed, his “forces” routed, and finally, to the number of a thousand, obliged to surrender as prisoners of war. That success, however, at such a time is quite enough to elevate any man to the highest command. M’Clellan is about thirty-six years of age, was educated at West Point, where he was junior to M’Dowell, and a class-fellow of Beauregard.
I dined with M. Mercier, the French minister, who has a prettily situated house on the heights of Georgetown, about a mile and a-half from the city. Lord Lyons, Mr. Monson, his private secretary, M. Baroche, son of the French minister, who has been exploiting the Southern states, were the only additions to the family circle. The minister is a man in the prime of life, of more than moderate ability, with a rapid manner and quickness of apprehension. Ever since I first met M. Mercier he has expressed his conviction that the North never can succeed in conquering the South, or even restoring the Union, and that an attempt to do either by armed force must end in disaster. He is the more confirmed in his opinions by the result of Sunday’s battle, but the inactivity of the Confederates gives rise to the belief that they suffered seriously in the affair. M. Baroche has arrived at the conviction, without reference to the fate of the Federals in their march to Richmond, that the Union is utterly gone— as dead as the Achaian league.
Whilst Madame Mercier and her friends are conversing on much more agreeable subjects, the men hold a tobacco council under the shade of the magnificent trees, and France, Russia, and minor powers talk politics, Lord Lyons alone not joining in the nicotian controversy. Beneath us flowed the Potomac, and on the wooded heights at the other side, the Federal flag rose over Fort Corcoran and Arlington House, from which the grand army had set forth a few days ago to crush rebellion and destroy its chiefs. There, sad, anxious, and despairing, Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Seward were at that very moment passing through the wreck of the army, which, silent as ruin itself, took no notice of their presence.
It had been rumoured that the Confederates were advancing, and the President and the Foreign Minister set out in a carriage to see with their own eyes the state of the troops. What they beheld filled them with despair. The plateau was covered with the men of different regiments, driven by the patrols out of the city, or arrested in their flight at the bridges. In Fort Corcoran the men were in utter disorder, threatening to murder the officer of regulars who was essaying to get them into some state of efficiency to meet the advancing enemy. He had menaced one of the officers of the 69th with death for flat disobedience to orders; the men had taken the part of their captain; and the President drove into the work just in time to witness the confusion. The soldiers with loud cries demanded that the officer should be punished, and the President asked him why he had used such violent language towards his subordinate. “I told him, Mr. President, that if he refused to obey my orders I would shoot him on the spot; and I here repeat it, sir, that if I remain in command here, and he or any other man refuses to obey my orders, I’ll shoot him on the spot.”
The firmness of Sherman’s language and demeanour in presence of the chief of the State overawed the mutineers, and they proceeded to put the work in some kind of order to resist the enemy.
Mr. Seward was deeply impressed by the scene, and retired with the President to consult as to the best course to pursue, in some dejection, but they were rather comforted by the telegrams from all parts of the North, which proved that, though disappointed and surprised, the people were not disheartened or ready to relinquish the contest.
The accounts of the battle in the principal journals are curiously inaccurate and absurd. The writers have now recovered themselves. At first they yielded to the pressure of facts and to the accounts of their correspondents. They admitted the repulse, the losses, the disastrous retreat, the loss of guns, in strange contrast to their prophecies and wondrous hyperboles about the hyperbolic grand army. Now they set themselves to stem the current they have made. Let any one read the New York journals for the last week, if he wishes to frame an indictment against such journalism as the people delight to honour in America.
